Dark Centuries
by Eduard Kassel
Summary: When the heroes of DC are utterly defeated by a new alliance of villains the world finds itself under a new order. Now as the victors carve Earth up into new empires, the last heroes struggle to survive and fight amidst during the Dark Centuries. OCs
1. The Motherless Son

_"In a single day and night of madness and blood, the world was forever changed, a veil of darkness covering all the earth."_

_The Gospel of the Batman, 1: 5, the Book of Ragnarok_

"_Real change does not come down from on high, it rises screaming from below," -Emperor Deus I, of the House of Confuto _

**Chapter I**

_The Motherless Son _

"What I first remember is walking in the shadow of towers. They soared high into the sky, pristine and beautiful, a proud testament to the labors of humanity. I walked beneath them, small, scarred, and without history.

Mine was an unwelcome presence, the burns that covered me and left my eyes and mouth bared eternally to the world repulsed those around me. I did not know what act had left me so deformed; I could not even recall my name, much less the face that once rested on my skull.

Those are the earliest days I can seize on, Metropolis the city of dreams, inexplicably haunted by a man who was everything the city was not. I wandered its alleys and forgotten back roads, feed up with the eyes filled with disgust or pity. Amidst the other drifters I had little better reception, yet they held themselves to better standards, perhaps they saw in my visage the cruel world that had reduced them to human garbage?

I was nameless, a burned man whose days and nights were filled with aimless wandering and ceaseless scavenging. There was nothing else to do but try and reflect on the absence of my former life, it was in the midst of such attempted reverie that I first saw him.

Like some pagan god he soared through the sky, rising above even the towers. His garb of blue and red was distinct from those who walked below. I knew him and even then hated him. I had learned of him through reading discarded newspapers and magazines, and something was direly wrong with this Superman. As I was then I could not define it, but I knew and I hated him for it.

As has so often been the case in my life the change came swift and unexpected. There were four of them, a good number, enough to do something bad with, yet small enough to keep a secret. These boys were out for blood, this was not there first hunt. As they began their attack they called me "Crispy" recalled how last time they had light a bum up with petrol, one speculated that was what had happened to me.

As it was they were using their fists and boot this time, perhaps their previous success had emboldened them. I surprised myself when I left two of them cold on the ground, I knew how to fight? The skinny smart one pulled a pipe then and got a good hit to my head. I was down and about to go out, still indignant that these punks were my end I reached out to stop his blow.

I can't describe how I did it, they act came out of the blue and thereafter was as trivial as reaching to touch something. It was not something you thought or willed, I simply did it.

I felt my outstretched hand fill up with something, and it met the pipe the metal gave way dissolving into sand. The skinny punk stumbled forward, shacked at what just occurred, I myself did not know what to make of it. Instinct old me to seize the moment and I grasped the punk by the offending arm letting him scream as his flesh dissolved. One his pal passed out the remaining punk stated at me for a moment, what filled his eyes was no disgust but fear, I drank it deeply when he fled abandoning his comrades to my mercy.

Dispatching the three who had dared to assault me I returned into the underbelly of the City of Dreams. The act left me with a feeling of vindication. I had ended them, they had come for my blood only to loose their own. The survival and conquest I had achieved for the first time validated my existence. Taking their money and a new jacket I had profited as well.

I was different, special. I had always suspected I stood apart from my fellow derelicts beyond my ruined body, and now I could see why, I was more than human, better.

The shape of my world changed. Once again I crept into the light, displaying myself as those of station did in those long passed days. They still were revolted, those people who dwelled in the towers and the suburbs beyond the rotting heart of the city. Now though their eyes held no sting that could reach me. Though they did not know it, I was moiré than I seemed I was not sure what that made me but I was certain it was more than these tacky people living their tacky lives.

Things changed in the darkness as well. I became a thief, preying on dealers and bangers, taking their money and their lives. Among the homeless I achieved a degree of respectability, scaring bashers off with the rumors of a monster prowling the back ways. Things were still bad I now realize, but in y limited experience t seemed IU stood atop the world.

It was from those street folk I received my first name, to my knowledge, they called me Grasp.

It was not long after that name was given to me that I meet him for the first time. He stormed into the tenement I had claimed, and demanded information like he had every right to it. The Superman came down from his stainless skies into the gutter to pass judgment on me.

I denied nothing, I did what I did because I could. The fact that these men were not able to survive despite having chosen to live in a world of pain validated my achievements. His ever closed to any reason that did not match his own, he took me. I would not call it a fight. Beyond my hands I was merely human in what I could do, no match for a god.

I was taken to prison, the charges being multiple murder and theft. They collared me, taking away my power, dragging me down o their level like petty little children.

That was a greave error on their part, this would prove to be an environment I thrived in. Many of the lessons that would carry me to great heights, criminals, both metahuman and human showed me the shape of the wider world. I asserted myself in their ranks, beating a man who sought to take advantage of my weakened state I showed myself to be a member of this Darwinian fraternity.

Knowledge did not just come from my fellow prisoners. I was permitted access to books and devoured their knowledge with relish. Metropolis shrank and the world spread out before me, and I wanted a piece.

In what a surprisingly short amount of time I exhausted what the prison had to teach me. I was ready to set out on what I believed then to be my destiny, but was still confined by the society which had not acknowledged my existence until I violated its laws.

Bored I could do nothing but think, and think again. I realized how sorry a state the world had fallen into. The world was meant to the anvil hammered. The strong and the cunning survive the ordeals and get to carry on, while the weak and foolish die or are subdued for the strong and smart. That was the natural way of the world and it was fair.

But this morality had been blatantly ignored and twisted into being wrong. These criminals that called themselves heroes smothered the world. They exalted weakness and incompetence, and enslaved themselves to those who were lesser than them. Worse they called on those who shared their talents to either live like the inferior masses or enslave themselves to those masses. Those who disagreed were hunted and locked away like me.

People like me belonged out there. It was immoral folks like Superman that deserved to be punished."

* * *

Excerpt From the Gospel of the Batman, The Book of Decline

Grasp regained his freedom in two years, as part of a massive breakout of super criminals. He escaped by apparently avoiding conversation and slipping into the city as smoothly as possible. Smart, let the pursuers follow the loud escapees. At this point it becomes clear he was more than the sum of his powers.

His activities are unknown until he reemerged as a lieutenant for Brother Blood, his costume black spandex suit with a red G on the chest, face uncovered. He was far more dangerous now, having been trained in how to best employ his powers in combat. Blood also gave him access to information, which he apparently could absorb and retain at a high level. This also would be my first clue to his great weakness, a severe susceptibility to psychic manipulation, according to blood it was easier than working a puppet on a string. It was for this control that Grasp would later kill Blood.

Blood's defeat and capture freed Grasp and he escaped capture along with a number of Blood's metahuman slaves. Many would remain with him as members of his own group, the Supremacy.

Unlike other organizations, Supremacy opted for subtlety and profit in its operations. Through the use of diversionary attacks, or exploiting incidents caused by other criminals they would pull heists and robberies. Planned in advance they had a high success rate. They attempted to avoid the haunts of the more feared heroes. It was often mocked as an organization for its apparent lack of ambition, seeking only to acquire capital.

Their operations were based out of Australia, where they became the dominant super criminal organization. Their influence was growing across the region and making excursions on the world stage. Such excursions from their home turf brought me into my first contact with the man who would end an age.

I encountered the Supremacy when Grasp was colluding with the Penguin on stealing the Faberge Egg Collection. His style had evolved since then, he had completely discarded tights in favor of a black suit, though it was tweaked to conceal armor and allow excellent movement. At some point he acquired new synthetic eyelids and started wearing a white face mask.

His minions emulated his style, dropping flash in favor of practicality. Not a good trend. Even then they seemed enamored of him, he could do with charisma what Blood had needed mind control for.

Enlisted Manhunters help. Was able to track him down. Was a trap, he had started wearing an inhibitor, a flick of the switch and his mind was beyond the Manhunter's reach. Good strategy should of worked, saw it coming.

We recovered the Eggs and captured Grasp. After three attempted jailbreaks by his lackeys he was removed to the Watch Tower. Fours into his incarceration Supremacy remained a threat, now under Jinx and Mammoth as a duarchy. Wonder Woman had some troubles with them when they held a cruise ship hostage in exchange for Grasp. Situation was stabilized, but the Supremacy made a clean withdrawal.

In the fourth year Grasp was used as a test subject for Metagene Deactivation therapy. Did not approve of involuntary human experimentation, JL seemed to heading down a dark road. This was the same Superman who authorized Phantom Zone banishment without consulting courts.

Press leakage of JL experimentation to the media caused major outcry among leftists and Sentient Rights groups. Suspected Question was the source of leak, still voted against his expulsion. Marvel and a number of other "Good Guys" resigned in protest.

Exactly what happened is unknown, monitors where fried by a pulse and operating staff was killed. Booster Gold was there as a guard, we never found the head. Skeets was melted, if this was included in his records he must have chosen to die as appointed. Judging by later events Grasp used his powers to teleport to some place of safety.

* * *

"The place I went when the machine violated me, its hard to describe. I was expecting the lovely Goth girl to show up and speed me on the way to wherever my appointed place was. Insread I found myself displaced with out any explanation.

Standing in the ether I was overcome by a sense of vertigo. That is likely why I looked down beneath my feet and was meet by a wondrous sight. Panels, windows into the world. They stretched out in all directions; at first seeming uniform though I suspected subtle differences in shape. I spied one which showed me laid out dying in the lab, Gold crying out for the doctors to do something.

Further examination was prevented as a white slight engulfed me. At first it was formless the very essence of light, but it narrowed and defined itself, until I was surrounded by a true Ouroboros. The Dream King had told me that the serpent which is born from its own mouth was my sigul, now at last I met it face to face.

"_**Motherless son of the unknown father, your inheritance**_," the words reached me without voice, filling my mind even tasting them in my mouth. The Ouroboros constricted around me, crushing, what passed for air from my lungs. Rather than panic I was struck by a sense of familiarity.

As I arrived with a flash I departed that strange place with a flash. I returned to the world with the power to make my ambitions into reality," Deus concluded. He glanced down at small girl, she had finally dozed off with the last bit. Reaching out with a pale hand he brushed some stray hair from his daughters face, and rose to leave his heir to pleasant dreams.

_I would like to thank all the people who helped me on this project. First mein bruder, for always listening to my prattle and being blunt whn my ideas were stupid, it would be much worse without you man._

_Next to the writers who have contributed their own works to the later portions of this, my assist. authors: WyldCard4, MrBondoc, and drrockso20. Fellows tahnk for your help on AH and will be duly cedited for the sections you contributed. Hopefully we can continue to work together despite the move._

_Guten nacht!_


	2. Reunion

**_I do not own DC or its characters. If I did I would be rich and powerful and working on Elseworlds rather than Fanfiction. Grasp is mine and other OCs are property of the respective writers for Dark Centuries._**

**Reunions**

The sun burned high in the sky, a hammer against the anvil of parched soil. Together they crafted a glorious desolation. To many it would seem a wasteland, but life thrived here. The plants efficiently wrested what water there was and hoarded each drop with the tenacity of Ebenezer Scrooge. Much of the fauna slept now, awaiting the more benign light of the moon to emerge and begin there own struggle to survive. Whether they prowled beneath the silver moon or the blazing sun like the plants they were crafted to thrive on little.

A man made his way through the desolation, and he found it beautiful. E was among those who could easily discern its nature, and approved of the harsh by fair taskmaster. Those with the strength and cunning to survive did, those lacked did not. A philosophy he himself ascribed to without reservation.

He was an unusual sight, like many in such climes he strived to shield his skin from the sun, though he had taken it to greater heights than most. Gloves, a scarf around his face, long sleeves that gave way to worn gloves, and mirror glasses concealed this man from the harsh light. The heat of such insulation did not seem to perturb him as he continued onward.

The traveler was lightly packed. Since abandoning his petrol starved vehicle to the desolation he had discarded his supplies as their uses were completed. No his pack hung lightly from shoulders barely strained by the weight. The sparseness of provisions seemed o not perturb him in the least.

Now the traveler found himself amidst rather unusual rock formations. Born from the vanished sea and shaped by wind and rain they vaguely reminded him of a sculpture he had once studied. He could tell like that sculpture one of these was shaped not by the craft f nature but the craft of man.

Reaching the false geography he tilted his head studying it. He could see the truth of it, and the secrets behind that truth, but his way was blocked nonetheless. Bypassing this obstacle would be simplistic, but could hold certain unpleasant results. Still he thought, enough time has been wasted, straight-line it was.

In the blink of an eye the traveler vanished from the glorious desolation.

* * *

He stood at the top of a modest staircase, an impressive door at his back. With a click fluorescent lights came to life revealing the stairway and adjoining corridor as bare metal. Pulling away the scarf and discarding the gloves he smiled at how people insisted on making lairs straight out of Star Wars.

By the time he reached the base of the stairs the less impressive door that lead occupied the other end of the corridor had opened. Half a dozen armored Supremacy soldiers rushed out assuming a defensive formation. He noted with approval that their armaments where a combination high power conventional rifles and laser rifles. Covering your bases was very important in this business.

"You stepped into it desert rat. Hands where I can see em and you get a collar. Any hint of funny business and you get free cross ventilation," one of the soldiers barked. The intruder waved his hand and the barrels leveled at him shrieked as the y twisted upwards. The stunned soldiers could hardly react when their quarry vanished only to reappear behind them.

"Excellent response time, I see things have been kept in order during my absence. Most of those weapons should be salvageable. Summon mammoth or Jinx, I feel the need for a stop in the mess hall and a glass of Madeira," he commanded in a clear firm Aussie voice.

"It is you. I have no idea how but the tests aside you have that eerie combination of overconfidence that rubs me the wrong way and the brains to actually deserve it," the hairy giant remarked. He held the lab results in one massive hand confirming that this stranger was in fact his boss.

"I do not blame ya for the paranoia. When I got nuked back from the great beyond I got hooked up with the full package. Better powers, a body that has not been ordered extra crispy, and an Australian accent apparently," the man remarked. Mammoth had come to the mess hall expecting to face a hostile intruder only to find a white guy calmly dining and nursing some of the boss' favorite wine.

Surprisingly the confrontation had not degenerated into a brawl. With that way of talking Grasp had always possessed he had been able to get mammoth to fetch some fancy mustard and rationally discuss the fact that he was the long imprisoned boss of the Supremacy. Minus the burns do to a JLA experiment o him backfiring with interesting results.

Mamoth was not nearly as stupid as people thought. He was a physical fighter that relied heavily on super strength, extreme durability and other enhanced abilities in battle, because of this he was often dismissed as a brute. That was not to say he was a genius, but he could fight smart enough to hold his own against more powerful opponents and was not resentful of following someone who was smarter than him.

Truthfully these qualities and an instinctive tendency towards loyalty inherent in his metagene had been the reason he had risen high in the Supremacy. Grasp ever efficient prized a powerful and intelligent minion of loyal stature, over those who possessed much of any of those qualities but lacking the other.

They had now adjourned to Grasp's personal quarters. When they had established this new base Jinx had been insistent that they prepare for their leaders return. The fact that she had never allowed for the possibility he would remain imprisoned was much appreciated.

Changing into attire more suited t his taste the villain allowed himself a moment of leaders high. Working under Blood and rubbing elbows with other villainous alliances he had perceived the flaws that lead to repeated defeats. Megalomania in leaders was part of the problem, but one could not ignore disloyal subordinates more concerned with their own hide than the group. In fact the fall of Brother Blood had as much to do with the vain fools enslaved minions revolting as it did with the actions of the Titans.

But here he had been gone for years leaving a capable metahuman and a cunning sorceress in charge and look at the results. They had remained true to his doctrines, survived and thrived despite the crisis of his capture and the world nearly being split in half. Best of all, once he proved his identity it was_ his_ again. They had conquered the backstabber syndrome that had always bee the Achilles Heel to those dubbed villains.

Grasp looked over himself in the mirror. The burn scars that had previously encompassed his whole body where gone he even gained real eyelids and lips from scratch. Granted the new skin and hair was white as bone, but still a vast improvement. Having reclaimed the black pinstripe suit with concealed armor that had served as his uniform he reverently laid the accompanying hat upon his no longer barren scalp. His smile was sincere as the tech in the rim closed off his mind from the depravation of telepaths.

"It is great to be back my friend. Not only that but I have had a lot of time to think, and more tools in my box than ever. I think it is time to see exactly what I can do," Grasp stated. Mammoth's eyebrows shot up as Grasp's clothes turned to a shade of white that matched his skin and hair.

Two days later.

Returning from the operation in Singapore Jinx had been hoping for at least sometime to recuperate. The Duarachy she had been running with Mammoth placed him in charge of operations confined to the Australia while Jinx handled the off shore. Despite the division running the supremacy was still stressful. Unlike the old days where one literally burst onto the scene to seize the prize now she was coordinating human and metahumans to discretely acquire what they wanted.

While it lacked the glory and thrill of constant battle Grasp's methods had prevented many humiliating defeats and money was flowing I from across the Pacific rim. She had often wondered how Grasp had handled the big chair when you could not waste annoying lackeys or failed operatives at whim.

Surprised was an understatement when she returned only to informed he was back. Not only back but better than ever. She had remained faithful to him in more than her professional conduct, and now found herself rewarded for that.

The two villains lay in Grasp's bed, her resting with her purple hair let down for once while he stared up at the ceiling in thought.

"Any other _super powers _you'd like to tell me about?" Jinx inquired rolling to her side too look at him. His posture had improved, making him clearly taller than most grown men, though still not measuring up to mammoth. His body was not stuffed with rocks like Super Man or the other men in tights, he was strong like steel wire instead. And not to hard on the eyes either, she thought.

"It really means a lot to me, that you would wait with no guarantee that I would ever make it back," he answered.

"Nah, your bloody empire practically runs itself. The hardest part was evacuating Sydney after you were captured. We had the plan which you kept secret from yourself, but still we had to leave a lot of stuff for the Leaguers to find," Jinx replied sitting up.

"Yes I can remember the Manhunter probing my mind. No different from Brother Blood, sticking his mind where it has no business and violating you in ways not previously considered possibly. I hate telepaths, and that one will burn," Grasp answered growling. Jinx leaned over and kissed him o the forehead.

"I'll bring the petrol if you bring the matches, Grasp," she said.

"Hmm, that hardly seems appropriate," Grasp commented. Jinx blinked, wondering if her hints were going past the normally sharp villain.

"I was reborn in that lab, and I am something far greater than the burned man that crawled out of Metropolis' shadow. I think a new name is in order," he mused.

"Oh I almost forgot, there is a present for you in the pack. By the credenza, I picked it up from the Watchtower," he recalled. Jinx got up from the bed and foubnd the pack where he had indicated. It was mostly empty save for a near empty canteen and a few granola bars, and a rather large jar. Turning on a lamp she grinned at the contents.

"God isn't really my color you know," she chuckled.

"Yes yes, but there was nothing availiable in purple. A pity I couldn't prerve his expession, now that was priceless," he recalled. Jinx placed her gift on a dresser an returned to ther bed, allowing the long dead eyes of Booster Gold to watch.

_

* * *

_

Well I intended to make this longer after so many delays and set backs. Still better than nothing, right. The final piece was that contining woyld mean either a very long hapterthat would take ven longer to organize, or a bad cut off. So less is more or something?

_Please Review, it is the only compensation I get for this stuff._


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